


calls the storm of fire

by Morcai



Category: Valdemar Series - Mercedes Lackey
Genre: 10 Things, Gen, Growing Up Near White Foal Pass Makes You Weird (Because White Foal Pass Is Weird), faith - Freeform, minor dieties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 11:39:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morcai/pseuds/Morcai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eral grew up near White Foal Pass. It's made things interesting.</p><p>  <i>It takes him weeks of training to realize that not everyone can light fires by glaring at them.</i></p><p><i></i>:About time, Chosen:<i> Soja says dryly, and Eral scowls into space.</i></p><p><i></i>:Half Stonesburn can do that. Mira’s Da can do it with wet wood. I didn’t realize it was <i>rare.:</i></p><p>------<br/>(sometimes known as, "10 things Lavan changed about peoples lives after dying"</p>
            </blockquote>





	calls the storm of fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Snakeslider](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snakeslider/gifts).



> I blame this entirely on long conversations I've had with [Snakeslider](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Snakeslider/pseuds/Snakeslider) about strange things that should have happened in Valdemar. So have Lavan who became a minor god of fire after dying and how that makes life strange for people
> 
> Title is from Battle Dawn and may change later.

_Safety_

Eral’s first clear memory is of the day that his sister fell into the fire.

He was perhaps five, Kaya three, when it happened. They were playing, and he was careless in shoving her, and she stumbled back into the flames.

He screamed, his mother gasped, and Kaya rolled back out, giggling, her clothes and hair a bit scorched.

That was the day Eral started believing what his mother said about the Firestarter.

_Protection_

The winter Eral turned thirteen, Mira got lost in the snows.

It happened sometimes, and the whole village of Stonesburn turned out to find her, searching through the day, and then returning only to light lanterns to continue through the night. By the time the first lanterns had burned out, Mira’s father could only wait by the fire and pray.

Hours more passed, and Eral continued to search his section of the woods, hoping to find the girl he’d taught to braid hair only a few days ago.

He was about to give up, when the smell of wood smoke reached his nose.

Following it, he found the girl, asleep by a fire, pink-cheeked and smiling. The ground around her was cleared of snow, as if something very hot had burned it away.

“Mira?” he asked, shaking one small shoulder.

“’Ral?” she asked, sleepy.

“Yes,” he said, smiling. “Come on, let’s get you back home. Your Da’s worried sick.”

“Da,” she said, nodding.

Eral rolled his eyes and hoisted her onto one hip, kicking snow over the fire to put it out and muttering a quick thanks to the Firestarter for watching over the girl.

_Secrecy_

Sometimes, when the moon was dark and the weather was good, strange men and women would ride into Stonesburn. Eral rarely had any contact with them, but he usually helped care for their horses, all too often exhausted.

They didn’t come often, but when they did, the village became a hive of quiet activity. Usually only one or two came at a time, but Eral vividly remembered the night when seven had arrived, most of them on foot, leading horses who had been used far too harshly. And each horse had carried a child, most of them under five years old.

Only Astra remained with them, adopted by Niara, whose husband and babe had died not a month gone. The rest of the children left Stonesburn once the strangers’ horses were rested.

When Eral asked Ma about it, she hushed him and said that the children had to be kept safe, that Kaya had come to them the same way, though much younger than Astra. It makes sense. He and Kaya don’t look much alike, he light of hair and eye, and she his opposite. But their mother raised them together, and that is all anyone in Stonesburn ever needed.

He remembers what Ma said about why the children come, and promises himself that _no one_ will ever burn children if he can stop them.

_Slow Burn_

She comes for him one frantic night, when he’s busy helping ferry water buckets to save Ferril and Eda’s house.  At first, he doesn’t see her. Houses don’t burn down often, not in these mountains, but it happens sometimes. They can’t rely on the Firestarter to stop the flames after all. He helps those who help themselves.

It’s hours later, and Eral’s stained with smoke and exhausted when he finally realizes what the flashes of white from the corners of his eyes were. Not unseasonable snow, or ash, but a Companion, shining like snow-glare.

She steps forward, lovely as a winter dawn, and when he meets her eyes he gasps.

It’s like resting by the hearth, alone but for the flame. It’s like his Ma’s arms around him, like Kaya’s laughter, but _more_.

_:I am Soja, Eral, and I Choose you.:_

_Gift_

Time passes swiftly in the Collegium, and it soon becomes clear that Eral’s Gifts are subtle ones. Thoughtsense and a minor Gift of Mindspeech.

It takes him _weeks_ of training to realize that not everyone can light fires by glaring at them.

 _:About time, Chosen:_ Soja says dryly, and Eral scowls into space.

 _:Half Stonesburn can do that. Mira’s Da can do it with wet wood. I didn’t realize it was_ rare _.:_

Soja snorts. _:You should let Jera know.:_

Eral sits down on his bed. _:Why? It’s not like I need training or anything.:_

 _:It’s_ polite _, Chosen.:_

_Faith_

If, sometimes, Herald Eral is teased gently about his habit of putting grain and part of his meal into the fire every day, he never lets it bother him. Instead he smiles, and says, “There is no one true way, and I must pay my respects.”

He doesn’t bother to say more, about his quiet prayers that his sister’s son be protected from the hearth fire, that no child be lost this year to the snows.

_Growth_

Eral doesn’t like hearing stories about Lavan. It always feels vaguely disrespectful to him, though he doubts the Firestarter minds. Still, those who tell stories always talk about how nothing grows in White Foal Pass, even now, and it _bothers_ him.

He remembers being ten years old and seeing the firecone for the first time—gnarled and twisted, but growing strong in the desolation, determinedly alive.

_Maintenance_

These days it’s hard for him to get leave, and if the King decides to send him out-Kingdom, it might become impossible. But when he has time, between riding circuit, he likes to return to Stonesburn. It’s nice to be somewhere where he doesn’t scare anyone by glaring fires alight, and Kaya and her family are a delight.

Whenever they can, on the trips home, he and Soja do their best to smooth and maintain the trail that was carved out of the mountain so many years ago. In some ways it’s worship. In others, it’s a memorial.

Eral can’t imagine what it was, for Lavan to hold the pass with only his Companion for company, can’t even think of what it must have been like to lose her. But he knows what it’s like to come face to face with Duty now, and this is the least he can do for a brother Herald.

_Held_

Eral is reaching, reaching desperately and he _cannot_ reach whoever should be on circuit nearest him.

“By the nine hells and the firestorm, where _are_ they?” he curses, and he lets the message fall.

Soja nuzzles his shoulder and her voice is exhausted when she says, _:Let us try again, Chosen.:_

He has never wished to be a stronger Mindspeaker than he has right now, leaning against Soja’s neck, reaching desperately for another Herald.

 _:There’s a second army,:_ he shouts into the void, hoping _someone_ will hear him. _:The Karsites are trying to come through White Foal Pass!:_

There is no answer, and both he and Soja gather themselves. They have only enough strength to do this once more, and if they reach no one, they will do what they must.

 _:_ Anyone _, please, hear me!:_ Eral calls out again, _:The second Karsite army—:_

Something hears him, and replies.

 _:An army?:_ it asks, and its voice is like an inferno. Eral doesn’t know whether to be terrified or relieved. He has the attention of _something_. Whether it is benevolent or not, he does not know.

 _:Yes,:_ he Mindspeaks. He is desperately out of options _:I’m Herald Eral, I need to reach the Lord Marshal or the King—there’s a Karsite army headed for White Foal Pass, they need to know—:_

The other presence seems to stabilize, and then it _laughs_ , a strangely human sound.

 _:Do not worry, little brother,:_ it, _he_ says. _:_ I _will hold the Pass.:_

Eral refuses to hope. Instead, he simply says, _:Thank you,:_ and breaks the connection.

He and Soja need to plan how to stop an entire army themselves.

_Divinity_

Eral can’t leave the army as it marches, and he frets as they approach the pass. He’s nowhere near the vanguard, just an ordinary conscript working in the supply train. But he’s close enough, and eventually he recognizes where they are. One of the villages he visited as a child is barely four leagues away. They’re closing on the pass.

And then a commotion stirs. The army halts.

Soja, with her usual impeccable timing says, _:If you want to satisfy that damnable curiosity of yours, Chosen, you’d best get moving.:_

He grins. Soja knows him _very_ well. Carefully, avoiding catching anyone's attention, he slips into the woods. Soja is nowhere to be seen, but given that Eral’s been traveling with _Karsites_ , that’s not surprising.

Keeping out of sight in the pines, he makes his way to the head of the army, halted at the mouth of the pass. At first, he can’t see why, and then, changing his angle, he can.

There is a man in snow white, mounted on a horse so pale it seems to glow. _Both_ of them glow, actually, and there’s a faint _shimmer_ to them, like heat-haze.

 _:Is that...Lavan?:_ Soja asks, and Eral can only send back shocked agreement.

They’re so _still_ , Lavan and his Companion, their only movement the faint flickering of the Companion’s mane and tail, which look as though they’re made of flame.

 _:This land is protected,:_ Lavan says, and his voice is like the roar of a forest fire. Eral doesn’t doubt that _everyone_ in the entire Karsite army heard it, no matter how unGifted they might be.

 _:This land is protected, and you shall not take this pass.:_ Lavan says, his voice flat.

It takes a moment for the commander to marshal his men, but soon a few soldiers try to charge. Before they’ve even made it ten paces, a pale flame roars up, and they die screaming. As Eral watches, much of the first several ranks of the army attempt to attack. Lavan’s expression doesn’t even waver as his flames take the soldiers.

Eventually one of the commanders orders his men back. Lavan waits for a moment, then says, _:Tell your people, tell your Son of the Sun, this border is_ mine _, and you shall not cross it.:_

It takes some time, but before long the Karsite army is retreating. Eral doesn’t dare leave the woods until they’re gone, and Lavan watches them with burning eyes. They wait for what feels like candlemarks, but eventually Lavan and his Companion fade away, and Eral takes it as a sign it’s safe for him to leave the shelter of the trees.

Moments later Soja joins him, and they walk together into the pass.

Where the Companion stood, there are glassy hoof prints seared into the rock and dirt of the pass, and Eral’s eyes widen in shock, before he murmurs, “Many thanks to you, Firestarter.”

It’s an inadequate prayer, of course, but he doesn’t know what else he could say.


End file.
